


Lightning Strikes

by triggeringthehealing (froggydarren)



Category: Teen Wolf (TV)
Genre: Alpha Derek, Alpha Scott, Alternate Universe - Everyone Lives/Nobody Dies, Camping, Fluff, Gen, Getting Together, M/M, Magical Stiles Stilinski, Pack Bonding, Pining, Spark Stiles Stilinski, mention of Hale house fire
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-02
Updated: 2018-11-02
Packaged: 2019-08-14 17:28:47
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,002
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16497014
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/froggydarren/pseuds/triggeringthehealing
Summary: It’s only supposed to be a camping trip to help Derek’s and Scott’s packs bond. Stiles is prepared for a whole list of possible crises. Except one -- he didn’t check the weather forecast.





	Lightning Strikes

**Author's Note:**

> Written for the [Multi Fandom Writing Challenge](https://multifandomwritingchallenge.tumblr.com/) on tumblr - October theme: nature  
> prompts used: mountain, moon, lightning, sky.

Stiles isn't sure whose idea it was to go camping. None of them ever went, not even when they were kids. Between Melissa's unpredictable schedule and John's long hours, neither Stiles nor Scott ever had a chance to experience things like this, because there just wasn't enough time. They didn't do organized camps either, not with their parents' budgets being as tight as they were.

Allison apparently has some experience with setting up tents—Stiles doesn't bother asking, since bringing up hunter training tends to be a mood killer all around—and Malia knows her way around wildlife and plants that are safe to eat, even if only for coyotes. They're lucky that Jordan is tagging along because his past army training means that they now have a fire going and their tents are actually likely to survive the night. The only other people who seem likely to survive in the wilderness are Boyd and Derek since Erica's seizures meant she could never participate in outdoorsy activities and Isaac's only been in one camp when he was about six, not that he remembers any survival techniques from back then. Lydia and Jackson's camps had none of the actual camping, obviously, and they're both not all that happy about this trip. Danny's surgery kept him away from the outdoors just long enough that he was too old for camps by the time he was healthy again.

"Look, the lantern is better in the tent," Stiles hears Jordan explain. "We've got enough light out here with the fire, we all have flashlights for any necessary getting around. The lantern is bright enough to attract… all sorts of things."

"Fair," Lydia answers, though she's not all that enthusiastic about it. "I still don't understand why we had to climb a mountain for this. We could've easily bonded as packs somewhere more comfortable."

"Except this is the one way to avoid running into trouble," Allison says, earning herself several eye-rolls. "And these guys can shift and chase squirrels."

There's a growl from somewhere behind Stiles. He doesn't bother checking who it's coming from. The possibilities are as many as there are werewolves around. Instead, he ducks into the tent that he's left his backpack in and comes back out with a sweater. The werewolves might not need to keep warm, but he's getting chilly in rather unpleasant ways. They do have the fire set up, but he's yet to figure out how to keep more than one side of his body warm,

"Here's hoping there's nothing trying to claim the forest tonight," he mutters, keeping his voice low.

Not low enough to avoid being overheard by the pack members with enhanced hearing, all of whom throw him a glare that he translates as "if you just jinxed us, I'll kill you" or something similarly cheerful.

"It's not supposed to be raining, is it?" Erica asks with her eyes turned to the darkening sky above their heads and past the crowns of the trees surrounded their little camp.

Stiles sighs. It would be just their luck to get a random unexpected rainstorm tonight, right when they're communing with nature and bonding. Hard to do either if you're stuck inside a tent and can't talk to anyone other than the poor souls trapped in there with you.

"Not here, no," Derek says, following her gaze. "The valley on the other side is meant to get hit by the rain though."

"Don't tell me your super sniffer is telling you that," Stiles quips.

"No, see, there's this little thing called a weather forecast…"

"Oh my god, can you two stop with the flirting or foreplay or whatever your bickering is," Jackson interjects, huffing.

"You're just jealous because Ethan isn't around and Danny said no sex without him here," Scott tells Jackson, a shit-eating grin on his face. "You'll have to grin and bear it."

There are some chuckles but then everyone turns quiet again. It's eerie, the silence of the space, despite so many people around. Like breaking it would summon something untoward, which Stiles really doesn't want to contemplate. After all, this is a peaceful bonding trip, one that's meant to bring together Derek's and Scott's pack so they can live in relative harmony. Stiles wonders how long into the night they can get to before someone inevitably attacks someone else, regardless of who is right.

They have been on mostly good terms over the past few years, but it's always a precarious balance to keep. At first it was only him in the space between the packs, trying to maintain that balance as an Emissary in training—that alone was a surprise to him, but apparently having a magical spark, or being one, he's not entirely sure how it works yet, is enough to be an Emissary for a werewolf pack—which only worked because Scott was prone to listen if he thought he'd lose Stiles entirely.

Derek had no such qualms or considerations, but he did appreciate the in with the Sheriff's Department that came with Stiles's presence. And he'd started to work with John on cases that had traces of the supernatural. All in all, the set up they had going in Beacon Hills worked.

Even with Isaac frequently spending time with Scott and with Kira drawn to Malia of all people. And Stiles being on the edge of both Derek's and Scott's packs, belonging to both and neither at the same time. The truth was that he didn't want to choose, not now, not ever, if he had any say in it. He just hoped—not that he had an expectation of anything—that if it ever came to revealing the reason why he was so torn between the two Alphas, Scott would understand.

 _This camping trip might just make everything come to a head_ , Stiles thinks as he watches everyone move around and put finishing touches on their circle of tents in the clearing.

"Hey Stiles, we need to get the sleeping bags sorted, you remember which one goes where right?" Scott calls out and Stiles grins when he sees him standing in front of one of the tents with a pile of sleeping bags by his feet, looking confused.

"Well, no, but I took notes," Stiles says and walks over, tugging his phone out of the pocket.

There's no coverage here, they're too far out in the woods, but his notes app loads quickly and with it the list of pack members and their respective sleeping bag descriptions. Stiles gives Scott instructions and the pile gets smaller fast and then vanishes altogether, leaving him standing in the circle and looking at the campfire in the middle.

"Right, mountain ash," he mutters as everyone starts settling onto the big stones around the fire.

They'd agreed that he'd begin a mountain ash circle for protection but not close it unless there's an emergency. He's the only one who can, still, despite Danny and Allison also being human. Danny suggested that they keep the circle closed and have one of them open it to let the werewolves and coyote and kitsune out if needed, but Stiles figured this was better. He knew that some of them didn't like the feeling of being contained in such a small space—big as the clearing was.

So he walks the edges of the clearing with mountain ash in hand and stops only a foot from where he started. It's enough that he can get to it and close it quickly, but the wolves can get out easily before he does. He already knows that they won't disturb the line if they step over it, it takes a spark to move the ash these days as his abilities grow stronger.

They don't have any plans for this first evening besides making some s’mores and hanging out by the fire. The full moon is still two nights away and they're in no rush since they're staying for the whole week. The hike to the clearing did take a toll on all of them though, so one by one everyone starts disappearing into the tents soon after. Stiles checks the mountain ash line one more time before he crawls into his tent—he's alone in it and for the purposes of this trip, he's Switzerland, the neutral zone. No man's land. It seemed like a good idea at the time, but when there's nothing but silence to keep him company, he's wondering if it was a good one. Then tiredness gets the best of him and he falls asleep, mind still full of worry.

He feels a little more settled the next morning, after a surprisingly good night of sleep—the air feels fresh and clean, like the rainstorm that did indeed hit the valley on the other side of the mountain spread the fresh scent all the way to them. But the rest of the group isn't as calm, at least not the shifters. As little as Kira and Malia are affected by the moon itself, they do feel the restlessness from the wolves and channel it in ways they don't really like to talk about.

It makes for an interesting morning with a few scuffles and a lot more glaring as they all wander down to the stream that's close to the camp they set up. The shifters calm a little once they're in the woods, but Stiles is the one who gets restless then, feeling the energy of the trees. It's not as strong as the Nemeton, but his spark still picks it up and makes him full of energy, like he should be running—not that there's anything to run to or from right now. He only calms down again when Derek sits down next to him and they both stare at the running water, not saying a word until everyone else has headed back to the camp. 

"It's the Preserve," Derek says. "Mom always said that it had a mind of its own."

Stiles hums in acknowledgment.

"I thought it was the Nemeton, for a while," Derek continues quietly. "But then we fixed that and it didn't stop. It's like the forest itself feels us and makes itself known."

"Got any old Hale wisdom about that one?" Stiles asks. 

Out of the corner of his eye, he sees Derek shake his head. 

"I tried looking into it. Asked Peter," he adds with a sharpness to his voice like he's taken a bite out of a lemon. "He knows nothing either. It's probably because this land was ours for so long." 

"Think your wolfy DNA seeped into the shrubbery?"

Derek turns to him with a glare that he doesn't seem to really mean if the twitch in the corner of his mouth is anything to go by. Stiles smirks at him, unable to resist the temptation of a joke. 

"I mean, you guys rub yourselves on everything when you're all..." he makes pretend claws with his hands. "It wouldn't surprise me if you'd left traces of yourselves all over this place." 

"For all I know, you might be right," Derek tells him and shrugs. "Or it's just because the forest is so big and there are too many things that happened here." 

"I can feel it," Stiles says. "I didn't before, but now that I'm getting more attuned to the whole spark thing, it's like it draws me in." 

Derek looks at him with an expression that makes Stiles think of panic. It's more subtle though, not like when _he_  is on the verge of a panic attack. It's closer to worry and he's not sure what he's supposed to do with that. He's never seen Derek concerned like this about anyone, his own pack and family included. 

"Don't let it—" Derek cuts himself off. 

Stiles has a flash of a memory hitting him right in the face, the ice bath and the Nemeton and the sacrifice.... he shudders when he blinks himself back into reality.

"Yeah no, not going anywhere near sacrifices ever again," he says quickly. "Once was enough for several lifetimes. Worth it," he says, doing his best to ignore Derek's glare, "but not my best day." 

"You mean you being a little dark kitsune shit was not something that came naturally?" Derek asks, sounding a lot lighter. 

"Not the dark part," Stiles says. 

"Don't go growing tails now either. Don't think you could get away with that in college." 

"Eh, might be a nice little party trick. Kind of like you guys with the glowing eyes and all. Did you ever flash them at people when they were drunk?" 

Derek grunts out a "no" but it's anything but convincing. 

"Halloween has to be fun with that. Scott's claiming he's not taking advantage of the shift, but I think Kira messed with lightbulbs a few times, now that she can control them properly." 

To Stiles's surprise, Derek is quiet and when Stiles looks at him properly, he notices the blush on his cheeks.

"Wait, you do, don't you? Get the fangs out, flash your eyes...." Stiles chuckles. "Oh man, the kids have to love that."

"No idea. They're usually too busy running away and screaming," Derek says.

The satisfied grin on his face is a sight to behold. Stiles does just that—he commits the image to memory. It doesn't happen a lot, Derek being relaxed and sharing these kinds of details. He's changed, they all have, but these little snippets of the Derek that he must have been before the fire, before the absolute disaster that some of the past few years were, they're still rare. Stiles cherishes them all the more when it's just them. He feels like he's being let in on a secret when he gets to see Derek smiling, relaxed, willing to just be a person rather than _the Alpha_. 

"With great power," Stiles mutters to himself, then pointedly stares at the water again when Derek raises a questioning eyebrow in his direction. 

"So, full moon tomorrow night," he says instead of reacting to Derek's unspoken query. "Please tell me we’re not going to do things like trust falls or other weird bonding things?" 

"No. Just us, talking, catching food...." 

"Wait, what?" 

"Well, not you. Or Lydia. Maybe Danny. But mostly the wolves. We'll head out today and hunt down some food," Derek says with a completely blank expression. 

"Like, rabbits? Or a deer?"

"Malia would love that," Derek deadpans. "But no, you idiot. We'll run down to town for some takeout." 

Stiles lets out a relieved sigh. 

"I'm all for you honing your hunting instincts and all, but I don't think anyone would know what to do with a whole deer. Or how to make it edible to humans," he says. "I'm sure you don't mind your steaks on the rare side, but I prefer mine well done, thank you." 

"And I'm pretty sure we can't go hunting for curly fries anyway," Derek tells him. "Not the right season for potatoes." 

"Oh ha ha," Stiles says, starting to get off the stone he was sitting on. "Come on, let's get back to the hungry horde before they start eating each other. I think the deer might be a better option than that." 

Derek nods and gets up too, then walks by Stiles's side all the way to the camp, where the rest of the packs has settled around the campfire that someone managed to get going and boiled water for coffee. Stiles ignores Scott's curious glance, then Lydia's knowing smirk, and he focuses on the mug that Allison hands him instead. 

"Wow, this is a business venture in the making," he says. "If one of you settles in San Francisco in the future, I bet you could make a living selling campfire coffee to hipsters."

"Beats a job in Starbucks," Jackson grumbles.

"Hey, someone's gotta do that," Kira protests. "After all, those are people who make half of you marginally more tolerable in the mornings." 

"Not everyone is a morning person," Stiles tells her. "These guys are the things that go bump in the night, after all. Can't expect them to be bright-eyed and bushy-tailed.... oh wait," he stops with a smirk, then ducks when Scott and Isaac both throw crumpled up paper in his direction.

"None of you shift fully," Derek chimes in. "No bushy tails for you. I'd hope."

Stiles can't help but chuckle when he sees at least Scott and Jackson fail at being sneaky about throwing a glance at their own behinds, a mildly worried expression on their faces. 

"So anyway, what's the plan for tonight?" He looks around at everyone in the clearing as he asks. "It's not running after squirrels night yet, are we doing anything specific?" 

"Just taking a bit of time off, away from everything," Derek replies. "I'll go run the territory borders, make sure everything is fine." 

"Alone?" Stiles frowns. 

Something is telling him that it's not a good idea for any of them to be alone in the Preserve, not this close to the full moon. Or ever, really, but especially at this time of the month, it feels like asking for trouble.

"I'll go with," Scott offers, surprising everyone. "I've never done the full circle, you can show me that to look out for."

It's a bit of an olive branch, an opening to what they really came here for—to get the packs together and make them work as a team. Derek obviously sees that and nods. 

"Afternoon," he says. "We don't need to rush." 

After that, everyone relaxes again and they all focus on breakfast. By the time Derek tells Scott it's time to go, everyone has managed to find a spot of their own and there's chatter and laughter, some quiet conversations going on in the corners. Stiles can't help but look on as Derek and Scott vanish into the woods though. He walks the circle of ash, checking that it's still in place the way he set it up the day before, makes sure he has the rest of it in his pocket, ready to use at a moment's notice. 

He's not worried that either of the Alphas will attack the other, but it's like something is out there, waiting to take on all of them. 

As the afternoon slowly moves towards the evening, the clouds above them start thickening—another storm approaching, like the one on the other side of the hills the night before. It's another thing that makes Stiles uneasy, especially since he's not sure if it will hit them this time. 

The sky is still bright enough when the first bolt of lightning strikes, thunder following some time after, telling him that it wasn't anywhere near. Then there's another one, a little closer. 

And then...

Scott dashes into the clearing first, right as the first drops of rain start falling down, the cool water sizzling as it hits the campfire in the center. Derek follows him seconds later and both of them look like they're gearing up for something. What that is, Stiles doesn't know, but his anxiety spikes immediately after he gets a good look at their faces. 

"What is it?" Allison asks hurriedly when she walks up to Scott and looks at his face. "I'm gonna.—"

"No, it's fine," Scott tells her, putting his hand on her shoulder to stop her from rushing into the tent.

Stiles figures her plan is to grab whatever weapon she chose to bring this time. 

"It's nothing," Derek says. "Well, nothing _bad_ at least."

There are several faces around the clearing that make it obvious that he's not convincing. 

"The storm," Scott starts, then pauses to look up at the clouds. "It's closer than we thought it would be and with the lightning...."

His voice trails off and he glances at Derek. 

"Forest fire," Stiles says glumly.

He doesn't need to look at the others to know that they all look alarmed. 

"We're good here, for the most part. But if it expands, it would be hard to get out," Derek says, glancing around the clearing like he's trying to figure out if there's enough distance between the trees and the tents. 

There's another crack in the sky and then the rumble of thunder almost immediately after. Stiles turns towards it quickly and huffs when it becomes obvious that he won't see smoke unless a fire is too close. Then he realizes what effect being surrounded by fire could have on _Derek_. 

"Oh shit," he says and heads for his tent. 

He doesn't pay much attention to anyone who's calling his name. There are more important things to be done. 

"Where is the... oh come _on_ ," he mutters as he rummages through the bag he carefully packed, then the one he hastily threw together that has clothes and other supposed necessities. "Ah!" 

When he crawls out of the tent, he sees that the others are glancing up at the sky in between throwing their things into the bags they brought with them.

"You guys can go if you want to, but I can make sure we can stay," he says, loudly enough to be heard by the humans as well. 

He looks up and sees no sign of smoke, but he's not convinced that if there is one, it's going to pass them completely. Or that there won't be a fire at all, because he's lived in California his whole life and he knows it doesn't take much. 

"The downside would be that we couldn't leave until it's all gone. Which might be a while," he adds, glancing at Derek and Scott. "But since the full moon isn't until tomorrow, it should be okay."

"You can't hold back fire with mountain ash, Stiles," Derek says in a sharp tone. 

"I wasn't going to," Stiles tells him. "But remember how Deaton was teaching me about barriers and protective magic?"

"The stuff about mountain ash and the invisible walls?"

It's Scott who's asking, his forehead scrunched in a frown. 

"Yeah, but kind of a little better and holding things out rather than keeping them in," Stiles explains. "I've been learning how to raise barriers against pretty much everything. Fire included."

Derek stares at him incredulously and he's the only one Stiles bothers looking at. It's not because he's afraid or worried about the reactions from everyone else. It's because the only reaction that does matter is Derek's. After all, Stiles looked into fire protection because of Derek, because of his history and the effect out of control fires could have on him.

If anyone does ask, Stiles's rehearsed answer is that considering the past, he would be wrong to not prepare himself for all the possibilities. It's an explanation that he knows will be met with understanding nods and will just be chalked down to his tendency to dive into all possible research of anything he comes across. 

When Derek doesn't show any kind of a reaction, Stiles shakes his head and then marches over to the edge of the clearing. He carefully walks the line of mountain ash while he's reciting the incantation that he's got memorized, watching his every step and making sure that he doesn't disturb anything he shouldn't be disturbing. When he gets back to the start of the line he doesn't stop a foot away. The barrier closes with a ping that he's sure only he can feel.

"That doesn't feel like a mountain ash circle," Scott says almost immediately.

"It's not," Stiles tells him. "It doesn't hold you in, it just keeps out anything I want to keep out." 

"So like, attackers—"

Stiles glances and Isaac, who's frowning and looking around the clearing. 

"No, that would still require me closing the ash circle. This keeps out specific things, like fire and smoke," Stiles explains. "If there was a flood, I could keep water out too, but it would be more difficult. Water is a whole different amount of energy." 

He looks around the clearing and at everyone. They've all stopped packing and he squirms a little under their gazes. Then, finally, he finds Derek. He's standing behind Boyd and unlike everyone else, his eyes are not on Stiles but on the forest. Then, like he can feel Stiles's gaze, he turns to face him and Stiles barely holds in a gasp that forms in his throat when he sees the expression in Derek's face. 

"You did this," Derek says quietly.

The air feels like it's frozen around them. Stiles doesn't look away from Derek when he opens his mouth and talks to the rest of the packs.

"You guys can still go," he says. "Like I said, it doesn't hold you in." 

Then, like someone snapped a whip and magically teleported them somewhere else, they all scamper into their tents, leaving only Derek and Stiles in the center of the clearing. 

"You.... this is a very specific spell," Derek says, barely loud enough for Stiles to hear. "I know it. Mom knew it. I always wondered..."

As his voice fades out, Stiles cringes. He takes a step forward and doesn't miss the way Derek flinches at the movement. 

"Deaton told me it was because he wasn't in the house," Stiles explains, feeling the ache that Derek must be feeling. "It doesn't work from outside." 

Derek nods, but it's a small, aborted movement. 

"I'm sorry," Stiles says, taking a step back. "We can still go. There might not even be a fire tonight. I just... I wanted to... I know how much you..."

He stops himself. The words that were about to come out of his mouth would have given away the reason why he looked up and learned spells that protect this place and any other place from the elements. Specifically from the one element, from a fire. 

"You.... this wasn't just a general precaution, was it?" Derek asks and this time it's him who steps closer. 

Stiles shakes his head. If there's something he doesn't want to do right now, it's to lie to Derek. Not now, not ever. 

"Why?" 

There's a beat, then another one. Stiles takes a deep breath and opens his mouth, but no words come out. Not the ones he wants to say, not the ones he's deliberately holding back, not words that would give Derek an answer without giving away Stiles's secrets. 

"You didn't just do this because you wanted to learn whatever protective spells you can," Derek says, a statement and not a question. 

Stiles shakes his head again. 

"This was about fire. About me." 

Stiles nods. 

" _Why_?" 

"You know why," Stiles finally manages to say, the words heavy on his tongue. "You know why it mattered." 

"Tell me," Derek whispers.

He's suddenly right in front of Stiles, having crossed the space between them faster than Stiles's mind could process. 

"I can't," Stiles mutters. "There's no going back if I say it." 

"Tell me," Derek pleads.

He lifts his hand to Stiles's cheek, fingers hovering close enough to Stiles’s skin that the heat of Derek's palm radiates against it. Stiles jerkily nods his head and Derek rests his hand on his cheek, then puts his other hand on Stiles's side. 

"I love you," Stiles says, the words rushing out with a breath. "I looked into everything I could to make sure that I knew all the ways that I could to prevent not only hunters but also things that could bring back memories." 

"Idiot," Derek mumbles, then he leans in. 

He pauses before their lips touch, waits for a beat, then closes the distance when Stiles nods again. 

"Oh finally," someone says from one of the tents, loud enough that even Stiles can hear it. 

They don't stop kissing, not until Derek pulls away and groans, his cheeks coloring in reaction to whatever it is that he heard. 

"Your idiot?" Stiles asks when they lean their foreheads together, Derek's palm a steadying weight on his cheek.

"My Emissary?" 

Stiles's eyes widen, his mouth opens and then closes. Then, instead of answering, he kisses Derek again, muttering an affirmation between their lips. 

"So hey, you two wanna take it somewhere inside?" 

It's sometime later—Stiles realizes he's lost track of time—when the question comes from behind Stiles, Scott's voice filled with amusement. 

"I mean, I'm sure Erica is all up for getting a show, but if clothes are being lost..."

"Oh shut up," Stiles mutters, feeling his cheeks burn. 

He's pleasantly surprised that Scott isn't angry or disappointed, that he's not asking about the whole Emissary thing. It doesn't seem important right now and Stiles knows that he'll try to figure out a way to make it work, to not have to choose an Alpha or a pack to belong to. But in the end, if he can't, if he needs to choose, he knows what choice he'll be making. 

"Hey, the storm seems to be over," Kira says then, breaking the momentary tension.  "No more lightning."

"No fire," Derek whispers against Stiles's lips. 

"Never." 

Stiles says it with finality, with a determination that he can feel in his bones. 

"Not on my watch," he adds, then chuckles when Derek kisses him again. 

"Get a room!"

it's more than just one person shouting those words and Stiles blushes again. This time though, instead of staying rooted on the spot, he reluctantly pulls away from Derek after a quick kiss, then he links their fingers as Derek's hand falls away from Stiles's cheek. 

"Come on, I have a tent all to myself," he says with a grin.

"Not anymore, you don't," Derek counters.

They both ignore the groans and cheers that follow them into the tent. Stiles grins when they're in and he pulls the zipper closed.

"Did you know that there are spells to soundproof a place?" Stiles asks. 

Derek shakes his head, a smile on his face, then he tugs Stiles onto the sleeping bag and kisses him again. 

**Author's Note:**

> [my tumblr](http://froggydarren.tumblr.com/) || [my sterek fic tumblr](http://triggeringthehealing.tumblr.com/)


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